Falling out the Veil
by Minato Namikaze
Summary: Victory isn't all its cooked up to be. Some victories come at a price. In a moment of anger, Harry gains a victory, and loses his life. But Harry has earned the right to live. Problem is, Death doesn't give two flying ones, where or when he lives.
1. Chapter 1

Ministry of Magic  
May 27, 1996

It's a strange thing. Seeing someone you know die, that is. Death, alone, is unsettling reguardless of who it is;when you know the person, though, it slightly different. Most feel an odd emotion or two-- something their not quite used to. For Harry, it was like a great big heartbeat, stronger than he had felt in all his life. Greater than when he stood in silence as Aunt Marge belittled and degraded his heritage. More so then when Lucius Malfoy beat and abused Dobby the house elf. No, this single beat of the heart eclipsed them all.

It erupted from his beating organ, like frost seeping through the windows of his dormitory in winter, at the apex of the blizzard that had raged for days. The cold dread slipped through him, slowly, withoout haste, over his chest, down his legs, up his arms, and finally to his head. As it travled over his mouth, his jaw dropped, and a scream tore itself free. Over his eyes, and they throbbed, as salty tears gathered. In the end, the cold reached his head, the figurative finish line, and reality through itself on him, in great heaping waves of grief.

Sirius Black, his godfather, his friend, the marauder, was dead.

The sounds of the room came back in a rush. Remus' hands were around him, holding him back. The flashing lights of numerous spells danced across the room. There was a moment, even admist all that, where Harry felt he just might lose himself, and quietly exit stage left. But what saved him was the oddest thing. Across the room, up a number of stairs, Nevile Longbottem was struggling with the curse that forced him to dance, horribly, non-stop. With in the span of a few seconds, Nevile bit his lip, and by force of pure will, stopped the puppet dance. Nevile, the near squib who only just recently was beginning to show some apperence of skill, the boy who's parents were tortured into insanity, who still found the strength to never give up; saved him.

He semi-relaxed against Remus. Sirius was gone. Death Eaters were attacking. His friends were hurt if not nearly dying. And it was all his fault. So how could he just give up? Just give in to Voldemort and his army? No, he decided, the guilt and grief would come later, but now, just the death of Death Eaters.

He reached up moving Remus' arms away gently, turning the the rest of the room. He shared a brief look with the werewolf, and the two had a split-second glance of understanding. The former professor nodded and moved off, rejoining the battle. Harry bent down, picking up his holly and phoenix feather wand that had dropped near his black and white chucks. When he stood up straight again, he looked at the battle not as a child still in school, but as the chosen one, destined to kill or be killed. And kill he would.

"Bombarda!"

* * *

His inital attack caused much suprise for the order, giving them time to move the other children from the fray, and focus fully on offence. The stand off remained the same for near fifteen minutes or so, before an explosion racked the veil room. A nerby wall gave way, and a great snake of fire burst forth, narrowly missing Dumbledore. The headmaster and Voldemort were locked in combat, seemingly oblivious to the surroundings.

It was at that explosion that things began to go down hill. Harry stumbled, caught unaware from the blast, and was seperated from the order for but a few seconds. That was all the Death Eaters needed, and a group of four surrounded Harry, spells of all kinds hailing down on him. The other five proctected themselves and their partners in crime from the order who all too soon began struggeling to reach the lone Gryffindor.

Dumbledore looked to the Harry as he guarded, dodged and fought back against the four minions, never seeing what was behind him.

"Harry!" the headmaster called out, "Harry! Look behin-"

A fiery snake of molten lava burst from the ground infront of him, cutting him off. A flick of the wand and the snake froze to stone and shattered sending the fragments to his enemy. Lord Voldemort grinned across from him, clicking his tongue.

"Now, now, dear leader of light," He hissed, vanishing the debris, "don't interfere. I rather like the direction the Potter boy is moving in."

Said leader of light leveled a glare at the pureblood supremest. If Voldemort wouldn't let him speek, he would need to send him away first, but quickly, lest he be to late.

Harry dodged left narrowly escaping a bone breaker curse. In front of him four Death Eaters moved back and forth pushing him back. Avery and Crabbe mostly stayed back, while two of the people he hated most in this world pressed him; Malfoy and Bellatrix. The boy who lived forego all spells at the others in favor of the latter, the murder of Sirius.

"What's wrong little baby? Is itty bity Potty getting tired? Why don't you let Auntie Bellatrix put you to _sleep_!"

Harry danced back and forth as her spells flew all around him, a dangerous dance where the wrong step, ment death.

_Think! Think! Potter! There's gotta be a weekness, a spell she won't expect... Shite!_

Harry haphazardly jumped to his left, as the killing curse missed its mark, shattering the ground. He toppled forward, his face crashing into the ground. There was a brief flash of pain, and a great crunch lit the air as his nose broke. He cupped his face in agony and the spells stopped. He looked up at once, alert. Avery, Goyle, Crabbe, the Lestrange brothers, and Nott were locked in combat with the order of the phoenix, all while forming a protective barrier around he and two remaining Death Eaters. Malfoy stood back wand down, but just as alert as he, watching Harry with a cruel, smug look upon his face. His head rose higher, and there in front of him, wand to his head, was Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Awwe," she cooed like talking to an infant, "Did little baby Potty hurt his nose? Don't worry, Auntie Bella will make you feel better." And with that she cast the torture spell, crucio, upon him.

It was strong, he'd give her that much, but Voldemort wasn't called a dark lord for nothing. His had been faster, burned hotter, dug deeper, and ripped so much more slowly. Compared to the suffocating pain of Voldemort, Bellatrix was an uncomfortable wave. He trashed on the ground, for several moments, only faintly crying out in pain. He looked up at his tormentor, feeling his anger building, growing, becoming something ugly. He locked eyes with her, willing that anger to boil to the surface, willing the desire to kill her to turn his vision red.

The witch looked surprised, her will faultered for a moment, and the spell broke. She stood there looking at him strangely, her eyebrow rose, and an amused upturn of her mouth graced her face. Harry gripped his wand tightly.

"Well, well, Potter's got some strength to him. It's a shame my dear cousin didn't have that strength." She circled him slowly while she talked, like a tigress watching her meal as it struggled with its life, wounded by her strong claws to its stomach. "He should have paid attention when we fought. I could have drawn out his suffering, tortured him, heard his screams... But no, he had to fall through the Veil of Death--a quick painless death. Hmm, such a shame." She stopped in front of him again, and burst out laughing.

Harry's teeth gave a great crack as he ground his jaw. All his anger, grief, sorrow, and hate finally eclipised rationality. In a second, his wand arm rose and pointed his wand at Bellatrix's feet. Lucius was too slow raising his wand. Much too slow, Harry knew. It was her defeat, her death, and his victory, his revenge.

"Bombarda Maximo!"

A small circle of wind, no bigger than a galleon, appeared where his wand tip pointed. It spun violently, gaining speed faster than the blink of an eye. For one tiny split second, it contracted, as though the spell had failed, but then it kicked in reverse. A literal tsunami of wind burst outward, sending Lucius, several Death Eaters and a number of the order flying. Harry and Bellatrix seemed unaffected by the wind, at least by the wave of wind. With the lack of air pressure around them, the liquids in each body began seeking to expand--boiling them from the inside out.

Harry thought he might die then, unable to breath and cooked alive, but eternal relief swept over him. As air rushed back into the area, it chilled his body, as if he was thrown into the deepest sea, sinking to its dark depths, the cold and pressure killing him long before drowning.

The last moments he saw progressed in what he'd seen on t.v., described as slow motion. At the root of the spell, where once there had been the small ring of wind, was now a tiny ball of light. It seemed innocent on its own, not even as big as his fist, and just floating there. Around the ball, he could see air, as impossible as that was. The place where air was absent was clear undisturbed, while the wind rushed in was distorted, showing clearly the difference. The wind crawled toward the ball, ever so slowly. As soon as they touched, Harry knew, both he and Bellatrix Lestrange would die.

Good redence.

The air and ball touched, and contracted violently. He locked eyes with the witch across from him again. This time her eyes were full of fear and pain.

He vaguely saw a number of massive shileds surround Bellatrix, himself and the Veil behind him.

He rasped out one last sentence.

"See you in hell, bitch."

Then all went dark.

* * *

He awoke with a sudden jerk, an earthquake in the air his rude awakener.

He was standing, or rather, floating in the air; the Veil of Death looming silently ahead of him. The sole light came from the archway, the rest of the, place, shrouded in a suffocating darkness.

To his left, came a moan of pain. Also floating, but unconscious, was the ghost of Bellatrix. She was wispy, yet detailed and solid looking, just as Sirius had looked minutes ago. Around her trindils of darkness groped at her body, dragging her back, away from the archway and the veil.

Around him were similar trindils, gripping him in an irontight hold. But they were still, neither pushing him nor pulling him.

Another quake of the air rattled him, and the trindils loosed a fraction.

In front of him, the source of the quakes was obvious, at least to Harry. The Veil of Death was not as stoic as it had been the last thousand years. The archway which held the door to death was covered with cracks, spidering not only along the stonework, but even in to the surrounding air. From the cracks bled through a pulsating, white light. A tense few moments passes, then an inhuman groan broke the silence, and the arch shattered. A brilliant white flame burst forth from nothing, and enveloped the Veil.

At that moment the slithers of darkness convulsed, and started crushing Harry.

"_You again_..."

The voice was sudden, a wisper in his ear, and gone like a breeze.

The Veil thrashed about, like an animal caught aflame.

"_You're stronger... If you can burn even the gate._.."

The darkness stretched across his body, ready to consume his very soul.

"_Fourteen years since we last met... Harry Potter_..."

The dark scratched at his mouth, like little demons waiting to enter, to devour him from within.

"_Fool me once, child... Shame on you_..."

If Harry had a heart right now, he would bet his account it would have given out. But like so many times in his life, salvation came at the last second. The burning Veil, ignored till then, let off a horrible screech louder than any bomb, than any earthly noise. And like blinking, it was gone, nothing to prove it's existance but memories. The darkness, once so oppresive, so terrifying, drained away like water after a bath.

"_But fool me twice... and shame on me_..."

Harry spun around looking for the voice, confusion playing across his features.

"Whats going on? Where am I!"

"_I am Death, Harry Potter... It was your fire which destroyed the gate... Which consumed your soul before your own fire could... I concede your victory child_..."

"Death? Victory?" It shouldn't really have supprised him, but really, dying, nearly having your soul eaten, being spared, and 'meeting' the incarnation of death pretty much through logic out the window. They didn't cover any of this at Hogwarts. "What the hell's going on!?"

"_You have defeated that which took your soul, after death... I see that I cannot contain you... Your soul differs from the rest_..."

Harry felt a fimilar twinge of exasperation. Now his soul was different, was it? Just great. He'd never be normal, would he?

A sudden quake stole him from his thoughts. Far, far away in the distance, a small white light gleamed in the darkness, like a lone star in the sky. Without warning or signal, Harry felt himself moving, faster, and faster, toward that star in the distance.

"You will leave now Harry Potter... To rejoin life... And take solace... For we shall meet again, nevermore."

And with that, Harry Potter left Death, into the world once more.

* * *

The sun was brighter than he remmembered.

Darkness left in a rush, replaced by a great bright light in the sky, and a great looming shadow at his feet.

The figure of a man came to focus, and the giant shadow image vanished into his imagination. Though the man still seemed huge.

"Now lets see, what are you?"

The man reached for his legs, his incredible small and weak legs. Small, weak and naked. Like the rest of his body.

"A boy!" The man called out, "Catherine, it's a boy! We have a beautiful, healthy baby boy..."

The image of a womens legs near his head came to focus. As did the old, worn medical equipment. And the floresent light bulb above thier heads.

"Oh James, James... We did it... Our baby boy..." The women's voice was weak, fatigued.

The man, James, who shared his own father's namesake leaned forward, smiling at him even through the mask on his face.

"Your mother and I have been discussing names little guy, hows James III, or Henry, like the kings of old Europe?"

One thought flashed through his head at that momment.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

While living in an underground vault, in the middle of a wasteland still suffering the effects of a war two hundred years pass, might seem fun at first; it was not. Well at least it wasn't bad, just boring. A year passed since his arrival to the capital wasteland, as he heard it called. A year he spent cying like the baby's body he inhabited should. The loss of his friends and home was a hard one, but time heals all wounds. At nearly the end of that year, his new father, James, took him to live in a vault; a vault 101. For all intents and purposes, life was good. He had a caring father, a first in his life; new friends in the form of the other children, though he was like them solely in appearance; and finally a warm home with food and clean water aplenty.

About a month after coming to the vault, he finally mastered walking on his little baby legs. James smiled at him from across the room they shared. In one corner was James' bed, packed between the wall and the massive play pin hi father stood in. There was a big chest of toys against one wall, and his own crib against the wall opposite. The last wall held a stand for his late mothers favorite Bible quote. His father beckoned him over.

"Henry! Come here. Come here little tiger."

Ah yes, Henry. That was what James had 'named' him. It would do, at least. Harry was a sensible nickname for Henry, unlike something like Siegfried, or something like that.

He obliged, walking the long baby distance to James. The man looked down on him, his grin infectious. He bent down to his eye level his eyes sparkling just like Dumbledore's used to.

"Thats my boy! Just one year and already walking like a pro! And your potty trained too." Yes, Harry discovered rather quickly that he did _not _like diapers, nor the process of cleaning them. James gave him a bit of a start when he tickled him, sending peels of high squealing laughter around the room. "Your making quite the reputation of a genius aren't you, huh aren't you? Yes you are!" There was a shift in the doctors eyes. "Just like your mother."

In a moment he was back to the happy father again. "Now listen here tiger, I need to go to my lab for a bit alright, so I need you to behave and stay here. Don't worry I'll be back soon."

With that, he got up, closed the pen door, and the room door as well. A familiar click signaled the lock clicking into place. harry waited a few moments till he heard the apartment door shut as well, before swiftly opening the pen door. Now was his chance; his father had a small library in the first room, and Harry had been dying to look at it, to learn about the world he was now in. Though, he had to get passed the locked door first. Luckily, he knew just the way. Sitting around for a year with nothing to do, a person learns things. using his magic without his wand for one. It was a bit draining, true, but he was getting better as he practiced whenever James was gone, or not in the room. One thing he could do easily was unlock a door.

It was nearly ten minutes later when Harry was startled from a book about the advances of computers in 2077, his father had returned and he looked at Harry with amused eyes, and then at the door to their room with a bit of surprise.

"Well aren't you the little explorer? I guess that what I get for locking you up isn't it? Well come on then, lets go see if your little friend Amata wants to play."

That put a smile on Harry's face. Both for getting to see one of his new friends, and that friends mother, Suzan. Going to see Amata meant eventually getting fed. Breastfed.

Being a baby definately had its advantages.

More years passed for Harry, now called that by everyone, and he spent them productively. He learned more and more about the world, and technology; he was very much looking forward to gaining a pipboy of his own one day. He played with his new friends, several of them girls, leading to some events that might have been embarrassing, had they been older. And of course, there was magic. That little endeavor was coming along very nicely. Growing up again, this time with knowledge of magic had done wonders. He was proud of his stamina, and what that meant for the amount of spells he could cast. He hadn't really had any bursts of accidental magic though, probably because of his true age, 26 as of today. Of course, it was celebrated as 10.

"Happy birthday!"

Harry blinked momentarily as the lights flickered on showing the cafeteria filled with people, and the room decorated with balloons and party streamers. His father stood closest to him, and he smiled down at him.

"Happy birthday son. Goodness, 10 years old already. I'm proud of you. If only your mother..."

He was cut off though, as the Overseer stepped up to him. The man was as tall as James, but had dark colored skin. His face was lined with a few wrinkles, both from old age and stress. He held a pipboy in his hand.

"Congradulations on turning 10. As you know, all vault residents began their official duties at 10. So it is my pleasure to present you with your own pipboy 3000. Get used to it. You'll get your first assignment tomorrow." And with that he walked away, chuckling.

His father rolled his eyes a bit, but smiled at him.

"Go on tiger, enjoy your party." He too walked away, toward his friend Stanley sitting at the stools.

Amata came forward this time, her smile nearly splitting her face.

"Happy birthday! We sure surprised you didn't we?"

No, Harry thought, you didn't but I'll act it anyway.

"Yeah. It looks like you and my dad really worked hard on this didn't you?"

The girl smiled shyly. "Well," She started with a modest nod of her head, "I really just helped with decorations mostly. But your gift! I bet you can't guess what I got you!"

Harry grinned knowingly, but decided to guess wrong.

"A date with Christine Kendall?" Christine was one of the more 'developed' girls. A few more years and she would be a knockout.

Amata's smile was partily wiped off her face. "Gross! I didn't even know you liked girls! And you know what I mean, before you saying something rude. I guess I'll just have to give this Grognak the Barbarian comic to someone else..."

Harry laughed it off, and took the gift. He spoke up before she left though.

"I do like girls Amata." The girl turned, and he looked up from the gift to catch her eye. He waited a few seconds, for effect, then more softly, "I can name a few off the top of my head..."

She caught his meaning and blushed, then quickly spun away to mingle with the guests. As much as Harry didn't appreciate how Dumbledore neglected to tell him things, manipulating him now and then, Harry quite liked manipulating girls into liking him for the future. He passes the Overseer, not caring to talk to the strict man; he reminded him too much of Vernen Dursley. Old Mrs. Palmer smiled at him kindly, gabbled a bit and gave him a sweet roll. Paul Hannon thanked him for inviting him, and was then made fun of by Butch, the local bully. He made his way over to his dad and Stanley, where they stopped and Stanley greeted him.

"Heya Harry, you like your pipboy? I fixed it myself."

Harry nodded, but thought over his answer; this was his chance.

"Yeah! But it looks kinda old..."

Stanley just laughed, "Well yeah, no ones amaking 'em anymore now are they? Some people think that the a series is a bit heavy, but I like them for their reliability. That one in particular! I saved that one just for you. It fell into the reactor, and when we pulled it out, not a scratch on it! You could drop a bomb on it and it wouldn't damage her."

Harry nodded, making a show of being impressed. This was it.

"You mind terribly teaching me what you know about pipboys Stanley? I've had an idea for a while now, and with you helping me, I could have the best pipboy this vault's ever seen."

Stanley went from surprised, to doubtful, to full of pride. "Sure kid! What did you have in mind?"

Harry grinned both inwardly and outside. Hook, line, and sinker. "Well, I was thinking-"

"Time to cut the cake!" The robotic voice of Andy cut him off. It raised the saw on one of its arms, poised to 'slice' the cake. Harry wasn't the only one to see it coming, but the only to duck. A second later cake went flying everywhere, covering the counter, James, and Stanley.

Harry stood back up, and nearly fell over laughing. The face his father made was almost too much. Stanley wasn't much better.

"Um, maybe I'll tell you tomorrow after I do my duties, Stanley."

The man gave a grateful glance and nodded, and left to change after one last 'Happy birthday'.

Still giggling, he left his father heading over to Amata who looked distraught at the demise of the cake. Butch, though, had another plan.

"I'm hungry!" He called, standing from the booth, "And that stupid robot destroyed the cake. Give me that sweet roll Old lady Palmer gave you!"

Butch reminded Harry intirely too much of Draco Malfoy, and Dudley Dursley. Twenty-five years old or no, his famous temper flared.

"Go soak your head Butch! I'm not going to let you bully me."

The boy looked scandalized then his face went red as the adults started looking over, and officer Gomez raising from his seat "You...! You're gonna pay for that!" And he took two steps forward, his fist raised.

Those were the last steps he would take against him today.

Fighting Voldemort and Death Eaters, running away from Dudley, dealing with Draco; they all had one thing in common. They teach a person to run, or fight. And fight he did.

Faster than Butch could probably process, Harry lifted himself into the air with one jump, his hands out to balance himself. In one fluid motion, he pulled a perfect heel kick, catching Butch in the chest. Butch flew back, bounced on and off the booth seat, and on to the floor on the other side. He was out cold within moments.

"Sorry mate, I don't take being bullied too well."

More years passed by, less this time, but just barely. For the first time in sixteen years, he was sixteen again. That made him, what? Thirty two?

"Well," his father spoke up, "It seems to me that you're a perfectly healthy sixteen year old. So yes, you have to go to class and take the G.O.A.T."

Harry couldn't help but grin at the irony of the statement and how close it was to his thoughts. "Alright," he relented, "I'll go, I'll go. See after the test."

Jonas stepped aside when the door opened, and gave a friendly smile.

"Ho there! Stop by to see the old man this morning, did ya? Well don't let me keep you, you've got a G.O.A.T. to complete!"

Harry sighed, looking every bit the prisoner on death row. Jonas laughed and patted his shoulder then left him to speak with James. Harry waved to Stanley, who was sitting in the corner coughing, as he left promising to stop by afterwards and tell him the results. Down the hall, near the classroom a small group was gathered. The tell tale leather jackets identified them as the 'Tunnel Snakes' Butch's little gang. In the middle of them though, was Amata, and she looked humiliated, and angry.

He didn't catch most of what they said as he approached, but he caught the end, "... Why don't you and I find a closest and I'll show you a _real_ snake Amata?"

Like so many times before, his temper flared, and his magic bubbled to the surface.

"Butch!" The shout echoed down the hall, louder than it should have been, and they all jumped. None more so than Paul, though. Ever since Harry's birthday party six years ago, and the incident with Butch, Paul avoided Harry like the plague; Paul was terrified of the older boy. He didn't even stick around to see him; Paul took off like death was at his heals, taking cover in the classroom. The rest of the gang turned to him as he made it to the corner.

"Oh look," Butch called out with a sneer, "it's the little nerd." He was taking another jab at his hieght. He was only 5' 5" and Butch was 5' 8" but he made it sound like a mountians difference.

"Butch." Harry repeated again, softer. It was a warning, and Butch knew it. He moved his eyes to Amata, who was near tears. "Are you alright Amata?"

Butch seemed to take offence, "This ain't got nothin' to do with you! Butt out!"

Harry leved a glare at the Tunnel Snake, and Harry's magic breezed through his clothes, begging to fight. "You mess with her, you deal with me... Got it?"

"Oh," He sneered looking to the other two delinquents for a moment, "And what are you? Her boyfriend? Whaddya gonna' do?"

'He's really starting to piss me off...' Harry tightened his fist during his thoughts. Though he didn't see them, he knew what was happening to them. His hand seemed to turn red, from his fingertips to his wrist, and steadily growing further up. Soon his fingertips would turn white, and thats when the shit would hit the fan. One second would be all Harry needed to burn Butch past the skin and fat, strait to the muscle. Two seconds to get to the bone. Three to...

"Hey! Whats going on here!" The teacher stalked down the halls, toward them; Paul must have told him of the danger. Lucky. Butch would keep his hand another day.

The teacher made short work of Butch and his gang, and they buggered off to the class. The teacher turned to them, but stopped mid sentence when he noticed Amata's red eyes. He nodded once to Harry and made his way back to his classroom. Harry stayed with Amata for a few minutes, silent but rubbing her back. She took one last shuddering breath and nodded her head several times, saying she was okay. She looked up at him silently, and they stared at each other for several minuets. Finally she stood on her toes and gave him a long kiss on the cheek. And then she was gone, already around the corner to the class.

Alone in the hallway, Harry gave a silent fist pump; bad mood instantly gone.

The last few years he would spend in the vault passes without too much note. Nothing really special. He was assigned a place to work; with Stanley in maintenance which almost made Paul cry when he learned he too would work there. He finally modified his pipboy with the help of Stanley. He changed the programs on it to make it much more efficient, with the help of several processors and video cards he made by hand (and magic). To top it off he added an A.I. as well. It had the voice and personality of a butler, the one that Bruce Wayne did. He got in a few scuffles with Butch from time to time, but nothing too bad. So really, nothing special.

Well, Christine might disagree.

She was currently under him, her arms above her shoulders, her hands holding onto the bed sheets as her body rocked back and forth. Her large breasts swayed up and down, bounced around, and generally caught his attention. Her thighs were in his hands, holder her steady while he pumped into her. Her strait blonde hair was sprawled out around her head, swaying with her movements. He made short work of her, and in moments she called out his name in a scream. Her body relaxed, and she nearly passed out; staring up at him with pleased, half lidded eyes.

From the side of the bed another figure rose. "My turn."

Amata came into the dim lighting, her curly, light brown hair bouncing on her shoulders. She moved her body over Christine's, pressing their body's together, and looked back at him, swinging her ass sensually. Harry grinned, at gave a small prayer to God, apologizing for all the times he complained about his life. He reached forward, took her cheeks in hands, and was ready to plunge.

Till an alarm went off, right as he touched her.

He nearly snapped his neck, he looked up so fast. A faint red light was spilling through the curtains of the window. He jumped out of bed, dressing quickly, and throwing the girls clothes to each other.

"Shite! Do you think your father found you gone?" He directed the question to Amata. She nodded several times, looking panicked.

"He must have! What else would he raise the alarm for?" She stopped dressing and switched bras with Christine, looking flustered.

They scrambled around his small apartment, finding clothes, and covering up messes. Harry quickly took out a deck of cards and some food rations. He layed them out on his only table, as if they had been playing poker, with the food rations as chips. He made a pot and put several cards away from the rest, all to enhance the look. Amata and Christine quickly sat down, while Harry pulled back the curtains, looking out wondering how long till the guards would get here.

"Attention vault residents," Amata's father's voice rang overhead from the audio system, "An infestation of radroaches has accoured. Do not leave your rooms, and allow the security to handle the situation. Vault residents found outside their homes will be severly punished." And the message repeated. All three adults gave a sigh of relief.

"My god Amata, I don't think I know anyone that can scare me like your father." Well that was a white lie, but still. Christine nodded in agreement, while her face was still flustered from the sex.

Amata shrugged, but still agreed. They sat there for some time, actually playing poker for awhile, till Harry's door was opened from outside.

An armed guard ran in, gun at the ready.

"Woah! Woah! Jim! Jim, it's alright, theres no radroaches in here!"

Jim looked at him tense, and ready to fight, but relaxed when he locked eyes with Harry; a bit of help with magic of course.

"You," Jim swalowed hard and started again. "You need to come with me." He quickly glanced at Amata and Christine. "You two as well."

Harry's stomach sank, knowing something was wrong. A quick glance told him the girls did as well.

The police baton against his face hurt more than he thought it would. He could vaguely hear Amata and Christine call out, the later yelling obsinities.

"... Damn asshole...! mother fucking...! goat fucking pile of shity...!"

"We just want to know what your father's plans were. It doesn't have to be like this. Just tell us what we want to know." The overseer sounded sincer, as if he actually cared.

"I told you," Harry ground out, "I don't know! He never told me he was leaving. I don't know anything!"

The overseer looked disappointed. "Alright, if you won't cooperate, we may just need to use some leverage..." He looked back toward where the girls were being held back by several guards.

Now Harry has learned a number of things about hisself over his thirty five years of life. He's easy to anger, first and formost. Second, when he makes a promise, he intends to keep it. And third, he _will_ protect the people he loves. But most important of all, he learned that there are certain lines he couldn't ignore people crossing. Threatening/torturing/killing anyone he cared about was the thinnist line there was for him.

He ripped himself from the seat, for the Captain of the guard to catch him. The Captain called out in alarm as he struggled to hold Harry back. From Harry, a great burst of wind filled the room, with him as the epicenter. His eyes terrified the overseer the most though; they shined an unearthly neon green light, no brighter than a small LED light, but far more piercing.

"You touch either of them," his voice was soft, wispered on the wind, "And-"

He stopped as the Captain tried pushing him back into the chair. Harry grabbed his shoulder, his hand white hot. It melted the armor and cloth in seconds, and burned an imprint of his hand onto the Captain's sholder. The Captain stood no chance, and writhed on the ground crying in pain. Amata and Christine watched without surprise, having know about his magic years ago, but with slight trepidation at hurting the Captain. The overseer, on the other hand, shit his pants. His knees gave out, and he fell to the ground. Harry moved as swiftly as he did all those years againt Butch for the first time. He let the heat cover his body, turning him into literal demon of fire. He stopped inches from the overseers face, the poximity alone beginning to burn skin. He spoke no words as the guards holding the girls ran for thier lives out the prison door, taking the screaming Captain with them. When the room was silent, he spoke again, still softly; this time his voice was warped by magic.

"Never touch them." His face was calm, devoide of emotion. "Never." His face changed, becoming twisted by rage and he roared aloud "_Don't you ever touch them again!_"

The overseer passed out, a puddle of piss surrounding him. And like wind against a tree, the heat faded from him gone in the blink of an eye. Christine was the first to move, rushing to Harry in a hug. Amata followed, looking at her father, scared, but alright. She gripped Harry tightly around the waist. Harry guided both of them away from the room into the adjacent hallway, turning to go back towards the apartments.

"No." Amata spoke up, pulling at his sleave. "I think... I think we should go."

Harry and Christine shared a look. Harry took her hand into his, to show his support.

"Go where Sweetie?" He probed gently.

She looked up meeting both his and Christine's gaze.

"Outside the vault."


	3. Chapter 3

There was a moment when the sun blinded them, and behind them they could hear the screeching of the vault door as it slammed shut. Another second, it passed, and then Harry, Amata, and Christine saw the new world they lived in. The Capital Wasteland. An apt name to fit the place.

'Hasn't changed.' Harry had no grand delusions about the world outside-having come from that world into the vault nearly twenty years past. Christine reacted about the same, looking around, and out into the distance with distaste. It was Amata though, who had the strongest reaction.

"W-what? What is this? I knew it wouldn't be a paradise, but..." The girl looked completely distraught, almost to the point of crying. "I- I didn't know it would be like this! I shouldn't have brought us out here! It's all my fault..."

Both Harry and Christine moved to comfort her. Christine wrapped her arms around her from the side, pulling Amata into a hug and laying her head against Amata's. She didn't say anything though-Christine was an action sort of person, not a talking one. It was up to Harry to console the girl. Harry wrapped his arms around both girls, and leaned his head down to rest atop both the girls. He was silent for a moment in thought before speaking.

"It will be alright. We will be alright." He didn't whisper, didn't shout. He spoke it as the fact it was. "We will survive. More than that, we will live. I'm going to build us a home out here."

Both girls looked up at him then. Amata was constantly wiping at her eyes; trying to stop the tears before they even fell. Harry switched looking at each girl, making sure they hung on every word.

"I'm going to build us a home so grand it will be seen for miles around; the envy of others. And you two will be with me at my side, living in that home made for the queens you are."

Amata gave a small laugh and a shy smile, a small blush lining her cheeks. She stopped wiping at her eyes; the tears no longer falling. Christine gave Harry a wide smile, her eyes practically shining.

"Damn right!" She called, and the three fell into laughter. Harry smiled looking at the two girls, his girls. Christine the buxom blonde, who was fond of exercise and sports, and even more fond of sex. She was blunt when it came to speaking, and so chose not to speak at times like this. She was prideful and haughty, but still kind to her friends and family. Amata was the quieter girl, shorter in stature than the three, with Harry himself as tallest. Her breasts weren't as large as Christine's, but she was still just as lovely to Harry. She was more inclined to science and mechanics than sports, but still worked out to, in her own words, at the very least keep up with Harry and Christine in bed. To this day they still teased Amata every now and then since she accidentally told them that. Amata was also shy around people she didn't know, the opposite of Christine, but she made up for it in her desire to help others.

Amata gave one last deep, shaky breath looking up at the two people she loved most. "Thank you for that. I'm sorry I was so pessimistic."

Christine let her out of her hug, waving off the appology and grinning at her. "No problem sweety, we'll always be here for you." As she turned to Harry, he saw a familiar playful look on her face. She would probably bring up something that included him and sex. "Now you, _King_," she started, coming closer and looking up into his eyes, "Now that were out here, and the choices of women have skyrocketed, will there be any other _queens_ besides us?"

Harry smiled inwardly, Christine was easy to interpret when it came to her favorite subject. He shrugged, and answered honestly. "Only if you approve my queen."

Christine smiled and nodded smugly. "Good answer. Now lets go, I'm tired and thirsty." With that she started down the hill toward the broken road. Amata kept pace next to him as he followed Christine. Amata smiled secretly at him as she talked quietly, "She has you whipped."

Harry gave a grin back, and was pleased by the small blush that made its way across her face. "Only in public. And you know, we never finished what we started back in my room." Harry looked off, at the large metal structure he assumed to be a city in the distance. He turned back to Amata. "What do you say we pick up where we left off before heading over there?"

The full body flush was the only answer he needed.

* * *

It took about an hour total from their escape from Vault 101 to reach the city, Megaton, it was called. They trekked through a town called Springvale, or the ruins of the town. Most of the building and homes were wrecked beyond hope, but there was one building, a school, which was still standing.

"Looks sound," Harry called as they came three or four blocks away from the school. To their left was the street that ran parallel to the school, and to their right was the trail that led up to Megaton (As an old rusty sign informed them). "We might be able to clean it up and make it a small base, or something. Looks like some bandits, or rather Raiders if my memory serves, have taken up there though... Perhaps later, after we situate ourselves, hum?"

Coming up to Megaton entrance wasn't that grand, but considering what they had to work with, the inhabitants of the city couldn't be blamed. Two giant slabs of metal, a robot and a single guard might have been above average for all Harry could remember of the sixth months he spent as a baby in the wasteland. The only guard above the gate lowered his weapon as Harry, Amata and Christine stopped below him.

"More Vaulties huh?" He called more to himself than them. "Right, go on in."

With that he seemed to hit a hidden switch and the front gates to megaton pulled up.

* * *

Half the town was crazy, Harry decided. The other half were just pricks. Walking through the gate, a man in a uniform was waiting for them. After a little episode with the man trying to intimidate the trio, he let them into the city proper. To the right, there was a shop, the clinic, the waterworks, and a house. To their left, four houses. Directly in front of them, a church of some sort, and above that a bar. Oh, yeah, not to mention a BOMB in the center of town.

"There's a bomb." Harry deadpanned. Amata nodded, looking worried. Christine only looked mildly concerned.

"Think its active?"

"More than likely."

Harry dragged his palm across his face, sighing deeply.

"Two hundred seventy years and there are still idiots everywhere." he muttered. Turning to the girls, he spoke up, "Alright, I'm going to disarm this thing. Why don't you two go talk to that mayor; see if you can't learn anything about this place."

Two hours later found Harry, Amata, and Christine sitting around a table in the house given to Harry for disarming the bomb. The house was nearly barren, with only a few furniture, including a bed, a single desk, two tables, and a number of chairs.

"So we found out they use these bottle caps as curency." Christine dropped several of the metal objects on the table, sending them bouncing wildly.

Harry picked up one of the worn, dirty soda caps. On the top were the words 'Nuka Cola' written in fancy script.

"Well I suppose you use what you can right? The mayor gave me quite a few of these, so we should be okay for food and water for a while. And with this place, were good on shelter till I can find a place and resources for our future home."

"Yeah," Amata said, but her eyes were narrowed, and her brow was furrowed in thought. "But eventually we'll run out. So what are we gonna do for jobs till then? And what about your dad Harry?"

Harry slowly nodded, processing that. "Well, as for my dad, do you remember that pendant I gave him two years ago?"

Christine answered first, "Yeah, the one that was all swirly, like wind right?"

"That's the one." Harry answered back, "In that I placed a Guardian. It's a trick I came up with a couple years ago, but with being in the vault, it didn't really have a use. Both of you have one too. Amata, that bracelet I gave you for your sweet sixteen." The bracelet itself wasn't that hard to make, at least the sterling silver base wasn't. He did spend several hours using his magic to shape the metal and carve decorations into it. Mermaids danced all about the jewelry in a watery background. The amount of detail Harry put into it was incredible; seaweed floated about, the fins and scales of the mermaids stood out in amazing contrast, the mermaids hair drifted gently in the underwater current, and Harry's favorite; the mermaids breasts. Some were very large, others smaller than the rest, but all were nicely centered and showed no sagging.

When Amata first saw it she gasped, squealed, hugged and jumped around; then later while looking at it in more detail, snorted and giggled at him, "Henry! You're such a pervert. You gave them nipples? Ahh, what am I going to do with you?"

Harry laughed and pinched her side, sending her into peels of laughter. "Aww, you know you love me!" That was the day Amata finally joined Harry and Christine, turning their love duo into a love trio.

Amata fingered the bracelet, lost in memories as Harry turned to Christine. "Yours is the necklace I got you about a year after we started going out; about a month or so after we became serious."

Now that was a memory that still made Harry smile and blush from embarrassment. They were fourteen at the time, but in the vault that wasn't young, though it was slightly frowned upon. Sex that is. They were both in the shower, a first for the both given that they lost their virginity to each other a week and a half before. Harry could still see it clearly; Christine with her eyes shut tight from the water, her body pressed up against the glass plain. Over her shoulder Harry could see in the mirror her breasts, impressive even then, mashed together flat against the glass. Harry stood behind her, one foot up on the lip of the tub and a hand against the wall for support. The other hand squeezed and kneaded her ass cheek as he pumped into her. With a little help of magic, Harry was learning to hold back his end longer and longer to give Christine time to feel great. It might have been better to try it out another day. It worked alright; worked too much. Harry was able to hold on for one, two of Christine's climaxes before ending with her on her third. Unfortunately, by that time Christine had forgotten, in her blissful sex-induced trance, that Harry's father was one room over sleeping. Needless to say it was an awkward moment when James burst in after hearing Christine's ear-splitting cry of ecstasy.

Waiting in the living room of their apartment for James and Christine's parents to arrive, Harry pulled out the golden chain he had managed to find in one of the storerooms. With a little of his magic he had made and attached a medium sized charm of a dragon hen circling her eggs. Christine had gaped at him for a moment before throwing her arms around him and snogging him for all he was worth. They were well on thier way to round four when the parents interupted.

Completely worth all the trouble though.

"Anyway," Harry pulled their attention to him again, "A Guardian is pretty much as its name might suggest. A creature, or creatures in your case Amata, will manifest from the jewlery to protect you."

"Harry, thats amazing!" Christine was looking at the dragon charm in awe once again, "I didn't know you could do such things with your magic!"

"Thats not the half of it either." Harry was beaming at the attention from his two girlfriends. Being recognized for his skill felt good. "Theres so much more to them than that. They-"

A small explosion ripped through the air, muffled by the walls of their home. Shouting brought the trio out into the town. Numerous people ran past, some residents, others passing settlers and merchants. Harry caught the arm of one man as he ran past.

"Wait! Whats going on?"

The man gave a sort-of half snarl, half smirk as he hefted his gun up and changed out the ammo.

"Its the damn Raiders."


End file.
